That Which Haunts You
by Zura
Summary: An introspective Delta has a chance to think about his journey while he heads to Persephone. Based off of the decisions the player makes shaping the various endings. Told from a first person perspective, contains spoilers, violence, a talking Delta.
1. Beautiful Beast

I am Subject Delta. The symbol is branded on my hand. Johnny Topside to some. My real name lost even to the ones that took it from me. I can't even remember what happened. I only know of a powerful desire to be near an innocent. That desire had a large part shaping the creature I am today.

There is no future for me nor a past. There is only the present and the task at hand. While I am still driven to protect my Little Sister it is not the hypnotic commands designed by the late Dr. Suchong that urge me on. It is the memory of a scared little girl and a viper tongued woman that is never far from my thoughts. Both constantly talk to me in one way conversations across very different mediums. One always promising death and the other my salvation along with her own.

I do many things to survive in Rapture that I wish I didn't. I loot the bodies of splicers still warm from my white hot rivets. I empty trash cans for the hopes of rotten food. I drink out of toilets for fresh water. Mostly though, I kill. They come for me alone or in groups. They come with guns and wrenches and plasmids and hooks and hands that can break concrete. They want my weapons, my dollars, my ADAM, my life as Sofia Lamb commands them. They won't get any of it.

Of all the things I do none I regret more than the destruction of my brothers, the Big Daddies. One might even say they are my sons as the experiments performed on me helped create them. At first our savage battles are fairly even. We fight hard and I take many wounds but I am just a little too clever, a little too fast for them. As I drew closer to Fontaine Futuristics my weaponry and ADAM-granted powers give me a killer advantage. It becomes less worthy combat and more an act of mercy to put them down. Even the mighty Rumblers, who I had seen massacre fifteen splicers at once, were no match for me.

Then there are the Sisters. They adore me with yellow eyes and sing my praises even as I crush skulls to keep them safe. I need them. I need their ADAM but I cannot bring myself to fully harvest a single one. Not with Tenenbaum's warnings, not with Eleanor watching my every step. I _will_ find her, eventually. How I can face her knowing I'd taken a little girl's life to help preserve my own on top of my innumerable sins?

I ride the massive elevator down through the fathoms to the seat of Sophia Lamb's power, Persephone. It is a long trip and I find myself thinking of Mark Meltzer. I was just a step behind him the whole way and once quite literally. If only I had woken up sooner maybe we could have joined forces. Maybe I could have freed his daughter and returned her to her real father. Maybe we could have been friends. Maybe I wouldn't have killed him thinking he was just another Big Daddy mindlessly protecting his charge. His story is not unlike my own. I fear that if I make it out of Rapture that I will think of this often.

I have time as I descend below the sea bed to think of some of the people I have met since waking up.

I wish I didn't.

* * *

Plowing my way through the decrepit hotel I slaughter splicer after splicer to get to Grace Halloway. The one time celebrity was a hateful old woman taunting me from the safety of her hideout. She sent wave after wave of plasmid crazy maniacs at me. All of them were seemingly eager to die on my drill. It is a lucky thing that there is so much water leaking into Rapture. I am often grateful to have their blood washed from my suit.

Finding the secret panel to her safe room is easy. By now I am already developing the the keen eye needed to find the supplies and tools necessary for survival. Wiping off her filthy window Grace again accuses me of kidnapping Eleanor and doing things I can't remember. She lets me in.

The key I'm after is on the desk. I take it. I look at Grace who is trying to burn a hole in me with her eyes. In my hand is a sawed off shotgun with five more shots than it would take to kill her. In my other is a palm of hellfire that would turn a person into a charred corpse in seconds.

"What are you waitin' for Tin Daddy? Christmas? Do what you're here to do." she says defiantly. There is no fear in her, no backing down. There is only pain, despair and regret. I have listen to many of her words on my way here. I realize being near her now that she _wants_ to die and she wants me to do it.

I have killed enough already just to get to her. I did not know at the time but I will kill dozens, maybe even hundreds more. Even then I had my fill.

I holster my shotgun and let the flames in my hand die down. Reaching up to my neck I loosen the pressurized seal with a hiss of escaping air. Removing my helmet I hold it in my hands. I can't look at her directly. I know I need to say something but I have no idea where to begin.

"The hell you doing boy?" she spits and interrupts my thoughts.

"I don't know. You...you loved Eleanor didn't you?"

"I still do. What's it to a walking murder machine like you?"

"You think I kidnapped her. I didn't. I couldn't. This...hatred of me you have. You're wrong."

She laughed derisively. "Don't march into _my_ house in _my_ neighborhood and start killing my Family and tell me I'm wrong, Tin Daddy. Go one and pull that gun of yours and finish me off."

"No." I still haven't been able to look her in the eye. Now won't be a good time to start. "I've been listening to your audio diaries. I know all about you. If you want to die so bad for losing Eleanor then do it yourself."

I put my helmet back on and begin to lock in the deep sea seal. Grace's face twists into a visage of anger and she picks up a walking cane.

"You damn monster! I'll never let you walk outta here!"

She hits me with the cane over and over. I guess that it's probably hurting her hands more than anything. My armor is thick enough to stop weak bullets and certainly wouldn't be harmed by an old woman's walking stick. I finish with my helmet and turn to leave. Behind me I could hear Grace sobbing. I'm ten feet out the door when she yells, "Fine then, go! To hell with you!" Her voice nearly cracks as she curses me.

"You're a bigger man than I am, chief. Maybe next time she'll think twice about pointin' fingers before all the facts are in." Sinclair whispers in my ear as I leave the apartment.

"I don't think there's going to be a next time. I got what we needed. I'll be there in a few minutes."


	2. Blood and Lies

The sunken city of Dionysus Park is surprisingly intact after being underwater for so long. I am amazed at its tarnished beauty even in its decrepit state and with splicers doing their best to find out if I've run out of bullets yet. Lamb continues to regale me with tales of yesteryear and how perfect her daughter would be without my presence. She never misses a chance to tell me how every step I take is a sin. If I ever felt like radioing her back I'd probably tell her how much I agree.

Working for the strangely vehement Stanley Poole I move through the salt crusted park collecting Little Sisters. My Eleanor sheds light on how it all came to be. This man is a questionable ally in the first place. The first ADAM borne memory she shows me of his drunken partying gives me a sick feeling. Nothing good can come of our association.

I rescue the second Little Sister and have her gather for me with Poole's all too eager commands ringing in my helmet. I search for a place that will let me get her to safety. Nearing the vent I psych myself up to free her from the living nightmare she's forced to endure. It isn't a pretty process and I take her down from my shoulder. She stares at me with a crazy smile like she can read my thoughts. I wish I could make her understand that this is for her own good.

Steeling myself I prepare to establish the symbiotic link that will allow me to access her ADAM infused body like a computer system. Tenenbaum had showed me how to do this when I met her in the train station. I thought it would be a snap but having performed it a number of times so far I knew it carried great risk for the Sister.

Taking off my right glove I put my clammy hand on her head. I can feel the red substance pulsing under her skin and I seek it out with my own supply under mine. Connecting through our pores I take in a small bit of her sensation. Her veins burn with every beat of her tiny heart but mercifully she can't feel it. Inside her stomach an alien sleeps churning out more and more ADAM for the benefit of whoever is running Rapture at the moment.

The only solution is annihilation. I order the ADAM in her system to self destruct and ignite every drop at once. I hold her with my other hand as her blood begins to glow underneath her skin. She starts to spasm and her mouth contorts in wordless agony. I hold her tight as she jerks violently in my hands and I get only a glimmer of the intense pain she is in. It takes a minute or two for the process to finish but it isn't over when her veins stop shimmering.

There is still a sea slug lodged in her stomach. Tenenbaum explained that it acts like an organ having been introduced to the host body with their own cells to prevent rejection. Hooked into her with a living link I easily locate the slug and turn on the receptors it shuts down to stay in place. Using a massive dose of her own hyper charged white blood cells I overwhelm the slug and kill it where it is.

With a foreign object now detectably present in her body it began to cough up the slug's mass. It is far too large for the little girl's system to expel without help and I brace myself for the most critical moment. Using telekinesis I drag the slug up her esophagus. She is already weakened and is about to have her air supply cut off for longer than I'd care for. Unfortunately pulling out the slug too quickly would damage her organs just as surely as leaving it in would.

Carefully I let her own dry heaves support my effort to bring the foot long slug out of her. I hope she will recover as her mouth opens and the slimy black and red thing comes out sliding out. I tug at it slowly but steadily until its nearly halfway free and then yank it the rest of the way.

I release her head and clamp onto the slug. It is dead but still contains a very important amount of ADAM that I greedily drain into my system. Throwing the creature away when it is dry I push the Sister's dirty hair from her face. She'd gone limp and it was hard to tell if she was breathing. I nestle her in my arm and watch her chest in case I need to start mouth to mouth.

She opens her eyes which still contain a trace of yellow gleam but underneath brown pupils can be seen. I breathe out a weary lungful of air and set her back down on the moist ground. While she vomits blood and who knows what else out of her stomach my eyes scan the area for splicers. Looking up at me when she's done she wipes a greenish discharge from her lips. Her skin is flush with some color for once and despite what had just happened to her she was all smiles.

"Hi Daddy!" she said with nearly unbearable sweetness.

"Hi. Do you feel alright? Are you okay?" I ask as I replace my glove.

"Sure am!"

I tower over her and pat her on the fragile head. "Run along now."

She looks back at the air vent and then back at me. Grabbing a hold of my gloved fingers she presses my hand against her. "I don't want to go. I want to stay here with Daddy. You'll keep me safe won't you?"

I would have smiled if I could remember how. Instead I take a knee so I can be closer to her eye level. "I can't take you with me now. There are others I have to find. Go on now into the vent. Find Eleanor for me. Tell her I'm coming soon. Can you do that?"

"Uh huh! I'm good at hidey hole!"

"That's my girl. Here, I'll lift you."

I bring her up to the opening and she crawls inside but again turns back to me. "Daddy?"

"Yes?"

"Will I see you again?"

"Yes."

"Promise?"

"I promise. Go, go before the monsters find you." She smiles one last time and disappears into the darkness. I hate to lie to the little tyke.

Gathering my wits I get ready to leave when I feel another message from Eleanor coming. It starts with a tickle in the back of my brain and then all I can see is her. What she shows is a vision of the past I did not expect. I see Poole dragging a young Eleanor off to be sold to the Little Sister Orphanage. I hardly hear her explain his actions.

Voice fading I come to back to my own body. I realize that I am shaking. My sight clears and I am gripped by a different all-consuming feeling. Sitting behind a cocoon of reinforced glass and steel he sends me out to do his dirty work for him knowing full well who I am and what I'm trying to do.

Not that he could harvest the Sisters himself. He would not need me if he could. Sinclair was dead on about Poole hiding something but I never dreamed it would be this personal. If I wanted to I might be able to break into the control booth he hid in. It would be difficult to do without harming the equipment I needed to clear my path. Not to mention there were still Sisters to save and I still needed their ADAM. I would play along for now if it meant Poole would have his guard down.

The sound of footsteps splashing through water snaps me out of my reverie. I am too close to the air vents; the smarter splicers know the Sisters frequent them. Picking up my rivet gun I hustle away from the vent and hide my bulk behind a broken column. I had found that holding still from a distance allows me to blend in surprisingly well with Rapture's environment. I certainly wasn't invisible but it gave me an often deadly advantage against smaller groups of enemies.

I look out from behind a gap barely a couple inches wide. Not moving a muscle I watch two, then three, five, seven splicers total moving cautiously my way. They must have been tracking me from the last body I had my Sister harvest. Armed to the teeth with guns they don't seem to have anything else that can do me harm. This will be a crucial mistake on their part.

While I am glad they did not discover me mid-rescue a few minutes earlier I find myself eager to face them. Poole's all too anxious voice keeps echoing in my mind and I'm ready for grotesque violence. Blood running hot from the recent vision about my seedy benefactor I have to be careful to think clearly. Rage has no place in planning a precise attack plan.

Being sure to keep my head motionless I reach behind me and unhook my drill arm attachment. No matter what firearm I carry I never go anywhere without my drill as back up. It resembles an elongated glove with an inner hand grip. The entire sleeve is designed to lock onto either one of the arms of my suit. From practice I can put it on in seconds in total darkness if need be.

I lean the motorized drill against the column I'm standing behind and I think of green. I think of a jealous, maddening emerald and my left hand tingles with activity. The splicers fan out and investigate the vent. From my veins emerge a jade, bioluminescent secretion wrapped in a thin, easily broken membrane. I keep it covered by my palm to avoid its unnatural glow giving away my presence.

Picking out a splicer towards the rear of the pack with a shotgun I wait until most of them are past me. Stepping out to the left I tag the shotgun holder in the back with the ball of psycho reactive pheromones. I hope I am quick enough to avoid detection but the sound of my movements turns a few heads. It will take crucial seconds for the goo to kick in and I'm on the verge of alerting the entire group. Gripping the rivet gun with both hands I shuffle to the right and emerge from behind the column.

Only some of the splicers are looking my way when I show myself. Their faces drop even as I line up a shot on the nearest one. They freeze. They always freeze. I suppose I might be a scary sight but I'd never know. Their fear gives me enough time to put a blazing hunk of metal into the eye socket of the first of them. I barely have enough time to fire a second shot that was far too hasty to be accurate. It clips the shoulder of my intended target instead of the chest but she spins like a ballerina anyway before hitting the ground. I duck back behind the column just before they counterattack.

Machine guns, pistols and rifles thunder all at once as bits of limestone explode around me. Dropping the gun I quickly slide my right arm into the heavy drill attachment and lock it up. Pellets spray me and bits of the column pelt me with rocket force as I fasten bolts. I wait in moderate safety for a specific sound amongst the din and I hear it a moment later. A shotgun blast followed by the death wail of an unfortunate splicer.

I fire up my augmented drill and step back out from my hiding spot. Some of the splicers are looking at one of their own who had just emptied a shell into a former colleague. When they see me they face the bigger threat and hit me with everything they have. My spinning drill meets their lead charge head on.

The room lights up like a New Year bash. A hail of projectiles murderous enough to drop an elephant comes my way. The mechanism in the drill creates an electromagnetic field strong enough to reflect the speeding bits of metal back where they came from. I rush them while their own bullets rip into the landscape in front of me.

Spearing a splicer's chest with a mortal wound I hardly slow as I throw his body out of my way. The next splicer attempts to run but I put my drill into his spine and slam him to the ground as he screams in his death throes. My new friend empties his shotgun into one of others behind me and I'm already moving on to my next target.

Pulling my spinning drill out of the bone, flesh and concrete I spot the last one standing. Holding a submachine gun she is just finishing a hurried replacement of the drum magazine with a burning rivet in her shoulder. I'm six paces away with my spinning drill splattering gore everywhere when she starts in on the new clip. I don't know why she decided to shoot at me with a fully automatic weapon but her own bullets slash her to pieces before I even get there.

Standing in the center of the carnage I gulp down ragged breaths. Behind me my friend is quickly reloading. Whirling to face him I see his neon green eyes still under my spell. I relax and motion for him to come near.

"That was a close one." he says. Splicing had twisted his features into an abstract painting. I wondered just how badly my own visage looked but never wished to find out.

"We should get out of here. Noise like that'll bring more trouble." he advises me.

"Good idea. Say, how about loaning me that fine shotgun of yours?" I ask and extend my left hand.

"Sure." he replies and hands me the weapon stock first.

"Thanks. Would you mind turning around and keeping watch that way for a minute?"

"No problem." he says and dutifully complies. I lift the barrel of the gun to the back of his head and one final shot reverberates against the algae covered walls.

Tucking the shotgun under my arm I undo the locks on the drill and let it fall to the floor. Pumping the weapon I eject the unused shells onto the ground. Hefting the drill I hook the attachment onto my back and begin rounding up the good ammunition I can find. It only takes a couple of minutes for me to strip everything I can use and be on my way. I've had plenty of practice by now.

Retrieving my rivet gun I vacate the area in search of another Little Sister. Finding her will bring me one step closer to a long overdue one on one meeting with Stanley Poole.


	3. Shots In The Dark

The third revelation of the Sister gathered ADAM gives me no extra incentive to end Stanley Poole's wicked life. The fact that the man in the control booth is a mass murderer only serves to reinforce what I had already decided to do. I trudge back to the train car on a mission to meet him with nothing in between us.

I wonder at my own choices. Poole deserved my wrath more than any other person I'd encountered so far except maybe for Sofia Lamb herself. But who was I to judge others? My hands were no cleaner than his. I had made it halfway back to the station when I made my mind up for good. While it was certainly true that Poole wouldn't be getting a fair trial with me it was also obvious he wasn't getting a trial at all for his crimes. Letting him go would be an insult to his all of his victims including Eleanor.

Entering the station my receivers pick up an incoming signal. I am treated again to the dispassionate ramblings of the elder Lamb. I'm almost to the train when she drops a verbal bomb of information on both me and Poole. Not only did he do the things I had already condemned him for he was also the very person that had sold me out to Andrew Ryan in the first place. While I can't recall his treachery I am shocked that he would knowingly use me like this three times over.

Looking over at the man in the control booth Poole and I meet each other's gaze. His was wide-eyed and knew the very real possibility of violent anger. Mine was a blank plate of glass that held no mercy. He begins to blubber a half hearted plea but I remember my legs and and head for the train. Inside the train I set down my rivet gun and open the door to the next compartment. Selecting my loaded spear gun from the array of weaponry on the seats I head back out.

Poole was waiting like a frightened mouse behind the station controls. Upon seeing me he drops down perhaps in the hope that I had not seen him. Crossing the distance swiftly I enter the control room. Not expecting Poole to be armed I see the pistol almost too late. I duck and we fire simultaneously. A bullet slams into my helmet but at an angle that sends it merely skipping into the wall instead of my skull. My spear catches Poole in the right arm and lifts him off the ground. Howling while pinned the to steel mesh glass he drops his revolver to the floor. Oblivious to his agony I move closer and put another spear through his left forearm.

Kicking his legs wildly Poole screams obscenities I can't be bothered to pay attention to. Using up two more good shots I pin his feet to the desk he was suspended above. There's one more spear left in the chamber and I took my time getting around to it. My old friend's labored breathing is the only sound in the room for minutes and he does his best to remain conscious. I watch his rising chest and imagine a fifth shot quickly putting an end to any more motion. Just a short click, a tiny pull of a trigger to release the spring and he would be no more in seconds. I lower my gun.

Through a haze of pain Poole speaks. "Guh...go on...Topside. I always knew...always knew I'd go out dis way."

"You were dead the moment you kidnapped Eleanor Lamb." I say. "You will have time to think about that before you expire."

I tromp out of the control room with Poole's mixture of laughter and crying following me. Lowering my head to get into the train I lean my weapon against the cabin wall and shut the doors with a lever. Engaging the engine the train lurches forward and I settle in for an underwater cruise. I hope she wasn't watching me.

* * *

If one thing can be said about the Alpha series it is that we were built tough. I understand now that we are a breed apart from the other Big Daddies and modified to absorb even more tremendous punishment. When I'm in the same room as one of my own I know inherently that we are doomed to destroy one another. I wouldn't be surprised if it has been hard wired into our genes.

At the moment I am in a giant room containing the bloated, inhuman Alexander the Great who at one time may have been the person to do that wiring. From his cylindrical prison he has a front row seat to my battle with two of my Alpha brothers. They had forced me back almost to the entrance of the facility. To my left one had a grenade launcher and was happily throwing proximity mines at me. I'd been desperately catching them with my telekinesis and giving them back but he must have been expertly avoiding them. None of the resulting explosions seemed to faze him.

The second one was sniping me with a rivet gun from the other direction. I'd already taken a slug to the arm that was presently burning through my suit and scorching the skin underneath. I was trying to keep them at bay with a high output machine gun but they were running me low on ammo and EVE. I'd hit them with every plasmid I had which seemed to be about as effective as tickling them. I didn't know if I'd run out of energy before they'd run out of things to shoot at me but I knew time wasn't on my side.

Hearing the tell-tale _thumphb!_ of another mine being lobbed at me I reached out as the green explosive arced towards me. Catching it in the air I see a flicker of movement to my right and instinctively sway to the left. A rivet angrily buzzed through the air over my head and I retreat another few steps back. Not having a clear target I didn't like the idea of keeping a mine so close to my face so I launch it at the ceiling. It sticks to the roof the facility and locks itself in with a metallic clink. A plan hatches itself in my mind and I know exactly what I have to do.

Taking a position by the last two of the room supports before the airlock I squeeze off a few bursts at my explosion loving friend making sure that I am covered to my right by the column. When I see a mine come my way I throw it to the same spot as the first and form a small cluster of them by the time I hear the second Alpha charging the column. I think of a terrible, destructive tornado and encase my arm in a powerful wind current. I shoot some rounds in the direction of the first Alpha knowing there is another fast approaching. I want him to think I can't hear him.

He's only steps away when I put down a wickedly strong geyser trap directly underneath my mine cluster. Running over to it I turn just after the trap to see the Alpha coming out from behind the column. He thinks he's caught me by surprise and I let him rush me. Let it never be said that us Alphas don't love a good fistfight.

Flying into the air just inches away from getting his hands on me my enemy probably won't even feel what is about to happen to him. I turn on my heel and immediately begin moving away. A half a second later a deafening blast tells me my plan worked. I feel the shock wave in my chest cavity as I jump over the railing of the upper level down to the main area of the room and hear the heavy thump of what's left of him hit the ground.

Keeping low with the explosion still ringing in my ears I throw my gun aside into the alcove housing the Gatherer's Garden. Pulling on my drill attachment I lock it on with almost involuntarily ease. Edging to the left where I had last see the remaining Alpha I spot him still aiming towards the entrance where I had been. I waste no time tearing around the corner of the staircase.

The Alpha shoots another mine in my former direction just before his helmet tilts ever so slightly to see me coming. His slow loading launcher cost him his life and I put another trap under his feet. Lifted to the sky fathoms above us as if gravity decided to reverse itself he flails helplessly going up. I skid to a halt where he had been standing and I hear him being introduced to the ceiling. Engaging the drill I brace my arm knowing full well this maneuver would be nearly as painful for me as it would be for him. He lands hard on the deadly spear point of my spinning drill.

The impact causes me to lose consciousness for a few seconds. I come to with pain lancing up the right half of my body and most of rest as well. Rolling the couple hundred pounds of Alpha off me I undo the drill locks and slide out from under him. The tip of my weapon protrudes a good six inches from his back. A successful, if hazardous, course of attack. Taking a short breather on the floor I eventually sit up. Flexing my right arm I find it bruised but luckily nothing broken.

Getting to my feet I have to place one leg against the Alpha's body to free my drill. Fetching my machine gun I lumber back up the stairs to the main console. Waiting for me is Alexander the Great's genetic key. As soon as I approach it another pre-recorded message from the late Gil Alexander – I don't consider him to be same person anymore – begins thanking me for my help and asking one last time to end his life.

When the message ends a casing on the console slides back revealing a shiny, red button. Much like Poole the self-assured, haughty facade of my enemy in the tank gives way to the whimpering, begging coward underneath. Even the madman changes his tune when his life is at stake. I wonder if Lamb would do the same. No, not her. Even me holding her neck in my hands she'd still be sneering at me with that ice cold glare daring me to end her life.

I wasn't particularly angry with the bloated creature before me. He had been like many on my journey a possibly deadly deterrent and puppet of Lamb's. However I don't think she would have left Fontaine Futuristics unguarded. There would have been someone here to stop me regardless of the Great.

Setting down my firearm I try to imagine the consequences of his death. True he had been one of the researchers to experiment on me but it would bring me no satisfaction now. I doubt he would be making any other scientific breakthroughs in there even if he wasn't loony bin material. No one would weep for him.

What if I let him live? What would he do if I left him to his forgotten tank at the bottom of the ocean? Other than killing off his own private splicer army. Either way he would die alone in a dark room and another one of Rapture's nightmarish creations would fade into nothingness.

Ultimately it is his last request that makes my decision. At some point he knew exactly what would happen to him and planned out with painstaking, sane detail how to free himself of his condition. My gloved finger drifts over the almost hypnotic red button. I am considering whether to just slam my first down on it and be done with the matter when I feel a tickling in my head. My hand falls back to my side and in a few seconds I hear Eleanor's voice. She doesn't try to persuade me to alter my choice but offers a more pragmatic approach.

Returning to myself I admire her survivalist attitude. Operating the console just like she told me I direct the tank's machinery to execute a long since programmed operation. Inside the tank the old gears whirred to life and Alex the Great stirred uncomfortably.

"What...what are you _doing_ Delta!? No...no! Not that! Anything but that!" he shrieked.

One of the enormous needle arms jabbed into the helpless pink mass in the tank. I waited patiently while a large tube on the right of the console began to slowly fill with bright red ADAM. Alex the Great moaned inhumanly in pain as the needle reclaimed a giant serving of the fluid. With the Gatherer's Garden so close I would be able to make immediate use of his unwilling gift.

The machines shut down indicating they were done for the moment. I wondered how many more tubes such as this, nearly two gallons worth, I could extract from his body. Considering how it had deformed him I decided this sample was enough. I hit the red button and the tank erupts into a thunderstorm. Alexander was still screaming as I gorged myself on his ADAM.


	4. Horizon Breaker

It is not very much longer since dealing with Alexander that I am on the elevator headed for Persephone. I had some time to get a few hours fitful sleep by locking myself in the security room and laying enough trap spears to stop an army. I don't dream of anything. I rarely do. My dreams are more nightmares and when I wake I am glad to be in reality again at least for a little while. Sometimes I see Eleanor, sometimes she talks to me, comforts me. Those dreams I don't mind so much.

The traps proved to be an unnecessary precaution for the most part. Though my paranoia wouldn't allow me to lay down unprotected I was aware that the secret facility was as quiet as a graveyard and nearly as well stocked with corpses. The short rest does an amazing job recharging me. I often forget I am supposed to sleep at all.

I know that this will be the most challenging location yet while I move downward. Here is where Lamb sits jealously guarding her daughter. Yet I have my advantages. My body still tingles from the massive amount of ADAM I'd ingested. It had given me access to nearly every upgrade I could find.

Moving ever closer to a long overdue reckoning I wondered for the umpteenth time if what I was doing was just. Maybe Lamb was doing right by the world and I really was the horrid beast devouring the one chance it had. During much of my journey I had been unable to deny some of her accusations. I was the farthest thing from a good man one could get.

Instinct told me I wasn't wrong. Even if Lamb's intentions were pure her means certainly weren't. What good would an unwilling messiah be? Someone forced into their role since birth, no, born specifically to play that part. I'm not surprised Eleanor never heard of her real father. Finding someone to impregnate Lamb in the first place must have been an exercise in determination.

If Eleanor wanted to take up the cause her mother had given her I wouldn't get in the way. But she would do it on her own free will and no one else's. From the way she spoke I genuinely doubted this would be the case but I was prepared for anything when I would eventually find her. The plan was escape from Rapture; whatever came after that was up to her. If she wanted to change the world I would be happy to stand at her side as her guardian once more.

The elevator finally grinds to a halt and the salt corroded doors grudgingly open. Ready as I'll ever be I step into Persephone. I'm so close now but I know Lamb will send everything he has at me. Let them come. Somewhere ahead a yellow-eyed girl from my dreams is waiting for me.

* * *

I sit outside of the lifeboat many hours thinking. The sisters, my sisters, huddle inside the central tank where my mother's body had been. I had tossed it overboard. They had seen enough death in their short existences already.

I see much of it in Rapture's combined memories. Many lost their lives in a senseless, brutal war instigated by monstrous men that knew nothing better. I remember their lives before, after and during the upheaval. Their memories are like an ephemeral tapestry in my mind guided along by time's endless march. If I concentrate I can pick out a single thread, a dusty book as Augustus Sinclair put it. There are so many offering me their experiences but I will have time for them later.

Now I focus on my latest acquisition. The one I'd pulled from the man in the suit only a few feet away, my father, my true father. I must do something grand for his burial. A single headstone or a funeral at sea would do him no justice. I think of this while I replay his life's movie in my head. I watch him out wit, out gun, out fight every enemy that tried to stop him.

I feel his grim resolve to save every sister he can find despite that this meant destroying his own brethren. Even with my late mother goading him, prodding his wounds, trying to use her mind tricks on him he never forgot the sound of my voice or the hellish yellow of my gaze. Fighting alongside him I see myself through his eyes and how he swelled with savage pride as I mercilessly struck down his adversaries. They fell to us by the score and together the two of us were invincible. I would weep many times in the future for the scant time we had together.

I didn't even get the opportunity to properly say goodbye. My hand on the tank separating us was a powerful image in his last moments and he thought of me to the very end. I would never find a truer hero than him. With his persona perfectly preserved I didn't have to truly say goodbye but I wish I had the chance, just a few seconds. I think of him in the elevator headed to Persephone when he was thinking of me. Seeing myself as a Little Sister was strange enough even if it wasn't being viewed through two different minds like a distorted double mirror.

Looking out at the shining sea I think of all the places I've seen in my head that I'll have to visit. Many of Rapture's citizens were surface born and carried the images of their homelands with them. America, Russia, China, Greece, Spain, Italy, Australia, Egypt, Zanzibar, Japan. As I drag my father's body back into the ship with me I begin forming a series of plans based on each country's geopolitical landscape and how I can alleviate their issues. Concurrently I begin the design blue prints for the grand building dedicated to my father and the story of Rapture. I etch lines of stress and weight distribution for the structure as I plan legislative changes and economic analysis for the major world powers.

Closing the hatch behind us I lay father down near me as I take control of the craft and direct it towards my first destination. A tug on my arm turns out to be a sister looking up at me expectantly. I recognize her as the one that father gave his word to about seeing again. I take a knee just like he would to talk to her.

"He promised, Eleanor!" she squealed knowing that I would know exactly what she meant.

"I know sweetie. He kept his promise didn't he? We were all together again for a little while."

"But he's gone now! He's sleeping again!" she wailed.

I nod. "But he's still here." I tap on my temple. "He remembers you. He's glad you're okay and says that you were right about being good at hidey-hole."

"Yay! Tell him we'll miss him!"

I laugh. I haven't laughed in years. "I'll tell him."

"Where are we going now?"

"To a place called New York. There's some people there I need to see."

"Will Auntie Brigid be there?"

"I don't know. I'm sure we'll see her sooner or later. Get some rest Michelle. It's dream time."

"O-kay." she yawned. "What's big sister going to do?"

"Lots of things little one. Go now."

She wandered away as I remained at the controls. Much was destined to change in the coming months. I would hit the known world like a tornado tempered by rational thought. Those that would war on each other and create more Raptures would know me first. I would be fair, weigh the options, see both sides of the story. But when it came time for judgment and punishment there would be no mercy from me. If he was watching from somewhere as I used to watch him, then he would be proud. I'd see to it.


End file.
